[Lauchenoiria]

Somewhere in the sky between Kerlile and Xiomera
11th October – afternoon

Three Councillors and the President of Kerlile sat on an airplane as it made its way to Xiomera for the funeral of Emperor Topilpopoca. It was the most Councillors on a single aircraft ever, and with the President as well it was a security nightmare for the Matriarchy. It was the first time a sitting President of Kerlile had left the country, and without precedent, preparations had taken forever.

The idea of sending the delegation on multiple planes had been welcomed by those in charge of security, but was so hated by those in charge of Kerlile’s budget that the idea was quickly scrapped. Between the sanctions, the chaos of reform, and the brief trade war with Zamastan and Trive, Kerlile was beginning to run low on their fuel supplies, and it was expected that they would soon need to ration fuel, or ban personal cars temporarily.

Councillor Carmen Robinson sat with her seatbelt remaining fastened, her body stiff and her eyes wide as she kept glancing nervously around the plane. A packet of travel sickness pills sat nearby, and she was tapping her fingers. President Rebecca Arnott sat nearby, with a bottle of water, looking somewhat more relaxed.

“There should not be so many of us attending,” remarked Robinson to Arnott, glancing warily around the plane. “If something was to happen to us it would plunge the Matriarchy into chaos.”

“Nervous flier, Carmen? Relax, nothing is going to happen,” Arnott tried to soothe her colleague. The tension in Robinson’s shoulders, however, refused to leave.

“I was reading this book about plane crashes…” began Robinson.

“Oh, Carmen. You always pick the worst choice of reading material. It is almost like you enjoy winding yourself up.”

“If I worry about the future I do not dwell on the past,” she replied. “I don’t fear death, I merely fear the political chaos it would cause.”

“The tension in your shoulders says otherwise. Regardless, you need to think of something else. What are your plans for when we land in Xiomera? I intend to meet with the two frontrunners, I want to see what their attitudes towards us would be,” President Arnott said, taking a sip of water. She didn’t like flying either, truthfully, but she wasn’t about to tell the Councillor that.

“I am going to ask for a meeting with Cozamalotl. As the clear reform-focused candidate in Xiomera, I really think we should consider helping him. He is, after all, like you were – an unlikely, reform-focused candidate. And you won.”

“Carmen,” Arnott swallowed then sat up straighter and looked Robinson in the eye. “I understand your logic, really I do. But here’s the thing. Our economy is not good. The world is still angry with us for the war in Lauchenoiria. We are widely hated and the verdict from the TRC has hurt us. Xiomera has been a friend to us through this time. We need them. And can we guarantee that if they have major change they will still want to help us?”

“But surely we want reform there just as at home?”

“Eventually, yes…”

“I can’t believe you’re saying this. You are the leader of the reform movement in Kerlile. And yet you would deprive Xiomerans of the same?”

“That is not exactly…”

“Our enemies imprisoned both of us in June because we advocated for reform. Have you forgotten that? Was it so traumatic that you erased it from your memory? They didn’t even hurt you and yet you reacted worse than I did!”

“Carmen…”

“Forget it,” Robinson shrugged and then stood up and began to walk to the plane’s toilet.

“You are acting like Jennifer!” Arnott called after her.

“She has the right idea!” Robinson retorted then entered the small cubicle.

Arnott shook her head and chuckled slightly. Robinson really had been acting like Hale recently. The two of them had become extreme in terms of what reforms they supported, and they tended to get angry at those who opposed them. Arnott knew that Robinson’s torture had hurt her psychologically as well as physically, but the extend was rather alarming. Arnott hoped it was temporary.

At the other end of the aircraft, Councillor Greenwood sat next to Councillor Pierre, though neither of them said a word. Greenwood was reading a newspaper, not one of Kerlile’s three legal news sources, but a Lauchenoirian paper known for its neutrality. She periodically made indignant noises when she read something she disagreed with, and muttered under her breath about ‘foreign males’.

“Can you cut it out?” Pierre said irritably after Greenwood hissed in response to an article about a Paul Doberman rally in Annatown in which a woman was kicked off the stage after accusations she was an Aurora.

“Sorry, I just get caught up. Hate-reading foreign media is how I relieve stress during long journeys,” she replied by way of explanation.

“I am trying to work on this counterargument to little Rosemary’s minimum wage proposal. And I need to work out how I will keep an eye on traitor Carmen while we are in Xiomera,” Pierre said without looking up.

“Have an Aurora do it,” joked Greenwood, which earned her a glare.

“Do not mention the Aurora Programme while we are in Xiomera,” Pierre ordered.

“You cannot give me orders, Pauline, and I am not foolish enough to do that, rest assured.”

“You better not be,” warned Pierre, to which Greenwood rolled her eyes and returned to her newspaper.

The airplane continued to soar through the skies on its way to Xiomera, as the Councillors continued their activities and the numerous security personnel glanced at each other warily, praying to the Goddess that none of their number was a traitor. While Robinson was on the paranoid side, she was still right about one thing – if anything bad happened on this trip, it would plunge the Matriarchy into chaos, and nobody could be sure what the end result of such an occurrence would be.